Nain to Battle Harbour
Nain to Battle Harbour
We slipped our moorings at first light for our three day passage down to Battle Harbour on the southern tip of Labrador. As hoped there was next to no wind, so that we could enjoy the 12 hour trip motoring gently through the ‘tickles’ and ‘rattles’ before hitting the open sea again. (Translation from Newfie speak: a narrow strait is called a tickle if the wake tickles both banks as your boat goes through). The landscape was as promised beautiful. Not particularly majestic here, but very wild with absolutely no settlements and none of the little summer houses you find along a lot of the Greenland Coast. There was also the wonderful smell of pine on the breeze from the few trees that manage to grow here.
The forecast was for fairly strong winds, but at least from a helpful direction. It was going to be ‘a bit bumpy’ though (Translation from British nautical speak: anything from a force 4 on the nose to a full blown gale). It was Ben’s galley day, and I started getting a touch concerned at the requests that were coming my way. “Linda, do you have any raisins?” “Do you have a sieve?” “Where do you keep the cinnamon?” What on earth was going on? “Force 8” shouted Oli, who had been keeping a beady eye on the weather indicator as the wind and the seas picked up. I looked round the corner into the galley and found Ben surrounded by mixing bowls, pans, bags of flour and sugar, happy as anything as the boat heaved up and down, just putting together a steamed pudding for our supper. This, mark you, someone who had expressed concern about the possibility of being sea sick. I think he’s got over that. Ben had been a bit short of reading material when he came on board and has pretty much worked his way through our selection of books. I had noticed him pause over the Australian Women’s Weekly Pressure Cooker Book (sorry Ben) and return several times to the pudding pages. The creation of the pudding was obviously a deep laid plan and a bit of wind wasn’t going to get in the way. The pudding was a triumph, served with cream, custard being a step too far.
The wind remained lively throughout the night, but dropped to almost nothing as we made our approach to Battle Harbour, only to spring up to a brisk force 4 as we entered the very narrow tickle. Space to get alongside the short pontoon was very tight and the wind was blowing us off towards the nearby rocks, but luckily there were people to take our ropes and we were soon snug alongside, another passage under our belt.